


Fondue

by tamiveldura



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-21
Updated: 2015-01-21
Packaged: 2018-03-08 13:04:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3210212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tamiveldura/pseuds/tamiveldura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The war is over. The boys get together and celebrate. Quatre breaks out the chocolate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fondue

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm enjoying my dessert happy as you please when this bunny hits me broadside with a ton of bricks and some mortar screaming for the muse and generally creating havoc. It took three hours for me to get to a computer. There was a lot of havoc to clean up.

The doorbell chimed gently. That anyone heard it was nothing short of miraculous. Between Duo's musical racket and Wufei screaming over it there wasn't much room left for bells- from the door or otherwise.

As it happened, Penn heard the door. It was his job. He was the doorman. He stood at polite attention until the bell chimed or a knock knocked and he, with grace and dignity, admitted the caller into the Winner residence.

And so the doorbell chimed gently, Penn eased it open and a musical conglomerate attacked Heero's ears with more tenacity than Wufei on a justice rant. He winced. Penn could sympathize. The doorman gestured down the hallway, not that Heero needed much direction, and closed the door again to wait for the next dutiful call on his skills.

Heero found the burgeoning party in a wide room with a crackling fireplace at the opposite end. The bouncing sound system screamed at him from the closest corner. Wufei was nearly red in the face trying to shout over the volume in Quatre's ear. Duo twirled on the table, contorting himself in something that probably resembled dancing. Heero couldn't be sure without some serious research. 

He draped his coat over a high-backed chair and, with a meticulous eye for detail, killed the volume just as Wufei took a breath. The silence rang in his ears. He knew the Chinese man wouldn't appreciate the attention his shouting would garner- apparently Duo had no such qualms.

"Hey you bastard it's about time you got here! Turn my tunes back on!" Duo hopped off the table and leapt at the perfect soldier. It was a move that would have put any other man into the wall at the least. Heero took the hit and the hug with a mild smirk.

"What is that pre-colony shit? Get some real music out here."

"Thank god," Wufei muttered, "Someone who can talk some sense into him."

Duo scoffed, "I'm perfectly sensible, I was waiting for the big cheese, my main man, the savior of the world—"

"I didn't do it alone," Heero protested, "And since when did you wait for anyone?"

"Since my data chip's in your car you lump." Duo headed for the door. "You're parked out front?"

"Yeah, you want the key?"

Duo made a face over his shoulder, "Don't be offensive."

Heero collapsed into a chair. It was good to be back with family.

Quatre twisted to lean over the back of the couch. "How was your drive?"

"Oh don't get me started." Heero sighed, "No one knows how to handle a car on this planet."

"I hear that." Trowa's soft agreement came above Heero's shoulder. He struck out before rational caught up with instinct. Trowa caught the attack in one hand, prevented Heero from twisting with the other and let a moment pass for his brain to catch up. When the resistance flagged he dug his thumbs into the pilot's shoulders to chase away the tension. "I'd give valuable parts of my anatomy for an open road every morning," Trowa complained.

"I'll second that." Wufei chimed, scratching an ear.

Quatre chuckled, "The measure passes," He pulled a small knife from some hidden fold of fabric and waved it in Wufei's direction. "Do you want to pay by installment or would you prefer a full deposit?"

"Tsk." The Chinese man twisted the blade out of the blonde's grip. "Give me that before you hurt someone important."

Duo's voice echoed down the hall, "Weeeee aaare the chaaaaaampions, myyyy frieeeeeeeeeends—"

"Duo!" four voices interrupted him.

Quatre levered himself off the couch, "Get someone who knows how to sing on the speakers. I'm grabbing drinks—"

"Oh! A beer for me, Q-ball!"

"Bulmers." Trowa requested.

Heero grunted, "I'll take a Balieys."

"Sake if you please."

"Uh, hu." Quatre muttered. He returned with three soda pops and two waters for the perfect soldier and his masseuse. No one complained.

Duo chugged his drink and crunched the empty can. He pounded his chest with one fist and let out a significant belch.

"Weak, Maxwell. Three at most." Wufei smirked.

Duo looked appalled. "You're joking, that was glorious!"

Quatre shrugged, "Three and a half."

Trowa dug his thumbs into a Gordian knot in Heero's shoulder, "Three."

"Three point two." Heero muttered.

Duo gawked for a moment. In the next he was fiddling with the music. "Let's see any of you do better, then."

Quatre tipped his head back to finish off his can of bubbly and cleared his throat carefully. He put a hand to his stomach and let a burp expand past his mouth.

Duo turned over his shoulder with a low whistle. "Juicy..." he muttered.

Heero looked up through his bangs. "Four point seven."

"What!?" Duo spun about, "No one's made it past four on your scale, you've lost your mind! It wasn't that good!"

"I'd give it a five." Trowa winked at the blonde as Duo exploded. Wufei agreed with the full mark, nodding and stretching to take up all available space on the couch. 

"You're all crazy, three and a half!"

Wufei took a sip from his can. "You're just a sore looser, Maxwell."

"I'll show you who's gonna be sore—"

"Oh, god, right there, yeah..." Heero's head made a soft 'thump' noise as it hit the table. His moan was almost sexual. The other pilots sat up and turned in surprise. Trowa just smirked.

Quatre's look faded into concern. "Heero when was the last time you had a day off?"

"Day off?" It was muffled, "I don't get days off, I get days that are worse than others." His head jerked up and he stapled Duo to the wall with his stare, "This weekend you and I are racing some bikes on the dirt—"

Duo let out a whoop and vaulted across the table to tackle Heero in a hug. Trowa jerked back, narrowly saving his hands from being crushed between the perfect soldier and his chair. He looked to Quatre and made a slight gesture with his head to the kitchen. Time for food? It said.

The blonde nodded and indicated Trowa should help with another twitch of his head.

Heero managed to pull the American off of him by degrees. "You're insane." He said flatly, "But at least you're logical."

Duo threw his hands on his hips. "Wuffers, I think I was just insulted. I demand you defend my honor." Wufei's empty soda can bounced off the top of his head. "Hey!"

"He means you'll react like a soldier, not a civilian." The Chinese man's head lifted past the back of the couch just far enough to lift an eyebrow in Heero's direction to verify. Heero nodded once sharply. Wufei reclined to the armrest again. "Besides, your honor's strong enough to take a few hits before I need to help you."

Duo's eyes crossed. "Was that a compliment?" He shook his head with a huff of air, "You two are nuts." He beamed when Quatre backed out of the kitchen with a platter larger than his head. "FOOD!!"

Plates and cutlery were divvied. Wufei was tempted to the table with the promise of chopsticks. They ate. They laughed. They cheered at the mention of dessert.

Quatre stacked plates and muttered in Heero's ear. "Can you secure the room for me?"

Heero half stood. "How secure?"

The blonde smiled. "I just don't want to be interrupted for this next part." The perfect soldier nodded. "Wufei, Duo, can you move the couch under the window so we have some room? Close the blinds as well. Trowa can you handle the coffee table?"

The pilots went to work efficiently. By the time Quatre had shuttled their plates to the kitchen even the dining table had been shifted to the side, emptying the long room in the center. The blonde exited the kitchen for the last time with a two-level chocolate fountain carefully balanced in his hands. Heero followed him with a platter of fruit and cakes.

Duo's eyes bugged. "Q-bean, that is a lot of chocolate."

"Fondue..." Wufei nodded his appreciation, "You have a list of rules?"

"Rules?" Duo scowled, "What do you mean rules?"

Quatre nodded, "A fondue party has rules-don't look like that, it should be fun. Think of it as a game." He set the bubbling fountain down in the middle of their large empty space and waved the pilots into a circle around it. Plates were passed. Toothpicks followed. The blonde stabbed a slice of strawberry and dipped it.

"So what're the rules?" Duo eyed the plate of fruits. Next to him, Heero considered the tiered bowls as if he intended to make an assault.

Quatre let the chocolate cool on his fruit for a moment then savored it for another. "You'll find out." He said with a smile, "Try some."

They did. Heero tried a piece of kiwi and his eyes lit up in delight. Trowa half smiled at the expression and tried a pretzel stick. It was quite good. Wufei savored a banana slice while Duo moaned over his second strawberry.

"Oh this is delicious Q." He stabbed another strawberry and was a little hasty getting it to his mouth. A drop of chocolate splattered his plate.

Quatre was quick to point it out, "There's a penalty for dripping chocolate on your plate." Duo went very still. Tension spiked. Quatre rolled his eyes. "You have to switch places with the person next to you." The danger released like a popped balloon.

Duo eyed Wufei to his right, then Heero to his left. "Oh, is that all?"

"Yep."

"Which one?"

Quatre dipped another fruit. "You can pick."

Duo shrugged and made a brief gesture to Heero. They swapped places. "I hope I don't need to run laps or anything, Quatre."

The blonde shook his head. They continued to dip. Duo swapped places with Trowa, then Quatre, then Quatre again just to mix things up. Wufei switched with Heero, Trowa traded with Wufei and Duo managed to make it all the way around the circle twice before anyone else made a mistake.

Trowa's strawberry slice slipped off his toothpick. He caught it on the plate but Duo was already there with an "Ahha! Mine!" The braided pilot stabbed the fruit and ate it himself.

"The penalty for dropping a strawberry..." Quatre paused while the pilots fidgeted. "...is to remove a piece of clothing."

"HA!" Duo barked and pointed. "Take it off Trow, take it all off!"

"You'd like that wouldn't you?" the pilot smirked back. He put his hands at his waist. Duo flushed red. Trowa pulled his belt out of its loops with a hiss and a smirk. Duo stuck his tongue out and suddenly found the toothpick in his hands very interesting.

Between them Wufei eyed the amount of fruit on the platter and then found himself eye-to-eye with Quatre. The blonde looked suddenly unsure of himself under Wufei's measuring look. The Chinese man could read the question there without Trowa's translation. Was this still ok?

Wufei let his attention flicker over Duo's embarrassed flush, the lean whipcord strength that ran over his bones. He drifted to Trowa and briefly admired broad shoulders, defined even through his collared shirt. He flicked his eyes to Heero. The only word that applied there was intense. He returned to Quatre and let his appreciation for a disciplined mind and body color his stare.

Quatre cleared his throat and tried to fight a blush. Everyone glanced at him. "The penalty for—" he cleared his throat again and looked away from Wufei's coal-black eyes. "...for eating a fruit someone drops is they get to take off a piece of your clothing."

Trowa's sudden grin was feral. Duo dropped his toothpick on the plate and scrambled crab-style on the carpet. Trowa stalked.

"Hey... hey, hey Trowa. My main man, pal, buddy—" His back hit a wall. He gulped. "You know it's just a game, right?" He squeaked.

Trowa chuckled low in his throat. The sound made them all shiver. "Oh, I know, Duo...."

Duo yelped and flailed when the Heavyarms pilot struck like a snake. Two iron hands grasped his ankles and dragged him back toward the circle. Duo's shirt rode up. He yanked it down and grabbed the waist of his jeans to be on the safe side. Trowa's smile was downright sinister... as he pulled the pilot's socks off and sauntered back to his place in the circle.

Duo's stunned look only lasted a second. "OOOooohhh, you—" He smacked the carpet and sat up. The group laughed. Duo fiddled with his toothpick, it snapped into several pieces. He tossed it behind him with a shrug and dipped his finger in the fountain instead. 

Quatre caught his wrist. "The penalty for using your fingers is someone else can volunteer to lick it off."

Duo twitched.

"Oh, allow me." Wufei purred. 

"Gah?" Duo articulated carefully.

Wufei clasped the pilot's hand gently and stared at Duo's face when he swallowed the finger whole. Duo was busy staring at the point where Wufei's lips locked around his knuckle. The digit twitched against Wufei's tongue. He licked around it and swallowed chocolate. His teeth scraped the skin gently as he pulled back. He nipped the fingernail.

Duo bolted into the kitchen; "Ineedatoothpick." Trailing after him.

Heero pinned Quatre with a narrow stare. "How far did you intend to take this?"

The blonde didn't seem phased. He shifted to pull two tubes of lubricant from his pocket with a shrug. He dropped them in front of Heero. "As far as anyone wanted to take it." His voice was a little rough. 'I'm willing' was what that voice said. Wufei's eyes gleamed. He licked his lips.

Trowa noticed. He snatched the slick and pocketed one; he tossed the other over to Wufei. That was tact permission as far as the Chinese man was concerned. He hid the lubricant as Duo returned, flushed, with his toothpick.

They all noticed he didn't bring any extras.

Heero's glare became pensive. Trowa dipped a pretzel stick in the silence. The drip of chocolate missed his plate by an inch. Quatre latched onto the slip like a drowning man to air. "The penalty for dripping on my carpet is higher than dripping on your plate."

"Oh, really?" Trowa rumbled as he munched the pretzel.

"You have to kiss someone next to you."

Duo carefully put his toothpick on the plate in front of him lest he snap it again. The Heavyarms pilot brushed his fingers along a cheek of a distracted Heero Yuy. The perfect soldier lashed out, was caught. His retaliation was blocked too. Trowa froze for the half-second it took Heero to recognize that he was not, in fact, under attack, then claimed his lips brutally. Heero's hands fisted, opened, fisted again as if he didn't know how to respond. Then all at once he grabbed Trowa by the back of the head, adjusted the pilot's hips with his other hand, and slid his knee between Trowa's legs. They rocked against one another. One of them groaned.

When Trowa pulled back he wasn't the only one breathing hard.

"Some kiss..." Duo muttered.

Quatre swallowed hard and slid a banana slice onto his toothpick. It predictably dropped into the fondue.

"Oooh, Q-bean has to strip!" Duo sing-songed.

Wufei dipped a strawberry, caught the drip on his plate, and savored it. "Switch with me, Duo."

The two swapped places.

"Come on Q-ball. You made the rules!" Duo taunted.

Quatre cleared his throat. "Yes, I did. The rules for dropping bananas are different." He looked up with a slight toss of his head to shift his bangs. "If it lands in the fondue someone has to take a piece of clothing off of me."

Wufei looked pleased as he took Quatre's toothpick and set it down. "Well, I see no reason to waste time talking about it then." He smiled. The cuffs on Quatre's collared shirt slid open under the Chinese man's skilled fingers. He let his hands linger over the slim wrists, skimmed up the shoulders, paused at the collar bone. He undid the several buttons one by one, held Quatre's gaze through the whole ordeal... then carefully did not touch the blonde's skin as he removed the garment. A blush colored Quatre's cheeks and spread flush across his chest.

Wufei tossed the shirt behind him and fished Quatre's banana out of the chocolate with his fingers.

"Hold it, this is pay back, buster." Duo snatched Wufei's wrist and laved at the dripping chocolate. He took fingers, banana, and all. The warm tongue was quick between the folds of skin in the knuckles, the suction dragged a small sound from Wufei's throat. Duo smirked and nipped as he pulled back.

It took a moment for Wufei to find his voice. "I guess Quatre has to take something off you, then?"

"Huh?"

"You ate his banana."

Quatre slunk around Wufei and launched himself at Duo. They went tumbling.

A low groan caught Wufei's attention 

On the other side of the fondue both Heero and Trowa abandoned the game. Trowa slid one hand under Heero's waistband and gripped a smooth, firm globe of flesh. His other hand braced on the carpet while he plundered Heero's mouth a second time. Heero was not idle. He ran his fingers down Trowa's back until they tripped over the edge of his slacks. Then they were jockeying for a better position to strip each other.

Wufei left them to it. Duo let out a laughing shriek. Quatre was crouched over him, ticking. Wufei wrapped one arm around the blonde's waist and palmed the bulge at his crotch. Quatre faltered with a shout. His hands fell to Duo's chest and the floor while his attention abruptly focused on rutting in Wufei's hand.

Duo took the opportunity to roll the blonde under him. Wufei allowed the change and pulled the same move on the braided pilot. Duo was a bit more resilient against a hand on his arousal. Wufei leaned forward to press his against Duo's ass. The pilot bucked against him.

"Ohgod, too many clothes."

Wufei completely agreed. He straightened and yanked his shirt over his head. Duo did the same. Quatre started fighting with his pants. He tossed them out of the way and helped Duo with his. Wufei remembered the small tube of slick in his pocket just before he chucked the fabric across the room.

Duo bent to worry a nipple. Wufei plunged a slick finger two knuckles deep. Duo jerked against him. The Chinese man spread more lube over Duo's erection with his other hand, once covered he sought, found, plundered Quatre's tight entrance. The blonde cried out. Duo muffled the sound with a kiss and pressed against Wufei.

The pilot got the picture. Wufei slid a second finger into Quatre, took a moment to badger the man's prostate, then replaced the finger in Duo with flesh much more significant. His vision went white for a brief, agonizing, perfect moment. Then Duo was setting a bruising pace and it was all Wufei could do not to embarrass himself too soon.

He focused on Quatre instead. The blonde's slim fingers scored red lines along Duo's tanned back. His eyes were screwed shut, mouth flung open, throat bared for Duo's teeth and tongue. He was ready.

Wufei gripped Duo's hip with one hand and guided him downward. He figured it out from there. Duo always had been a quick study. Wufei's fingers were smoothly replaced with a long slim shaft slick with lube and achingly hard. He thrust carefully into Duo. The pilot rode the motion into Quatre who moaned.

Perfect.

"Yes..." Duo seemed to agree.

"Harder—" Quatre broke off, suddenly embarrassed for reasons Wufei couldn't possibly identify. Duo licked a nipple. Wufei thrust a shade deeper and the blonde forgot his modesty. "Harder, damn you—"

Wufei rest his cheek against Duo's curved spine and planted his hands on the carpet to either side. He thrust harder. And between Quatre's gasping cries Wufei opened his eyes to an entirely different picture.

Somehow Trowa and Heero ended up closer to the couch. The latter was stretched up on his toes, push-up style, legs as wide as Trowa could force them. One hand gripped the arm of the couch, the other was flat against the floor holding himself up. Trowa knelt behind him, long torso bowed over to whisper. Wufei couldn't hear but he could read lips.

"Say no." Trowa muttered and his hips slid upward. Wufei realized the Heaveyarms pilot hadn't penetrated anything yet, with fingers or otherwise. Heero shook very slightly but he didn't say no. His breath was harsh.

"Say no." Trowa repeated his thrust, skin on skin, and let his fingers find the slick. He coated them, spread it over his erection, teased Heero's entrance with one finger- not entering.

Heero trembled hard and his breathing became labored, he was almost hyperventilating. The stance didn't let him push against Trowa's patient flesh.

Wufei jerked into willing body beneath him and watched. Quatre bucked and cried. Duo seized quickly after. Wufei wrapped an arm around Duo's torso and held him in place... and watched.

Trowa shifted again to let his fingers paint over taught, shaking muscle. His careful touch danced over Heero's shoulders, down his spine, pressed just so behind his knees. His limber curves showed no sign of stress; as if torturing the perfect soldier into a mass of jumbled nerves was merely a walk in the park.

Trowa tapped his long fingers along the strained calves. His erection rocked carefully at Heero's entrance. Just there, waiting.

The standoff was impossible to watch. Wufei was out of breath, couldn't hear a word, his jerks into Duo's supple body slowed, stopped. He let the pilot collapse next to Quatre.

The impasse continued and dragged and lazed about with only Trowa's soft touch to break up the monotony. It was the patience of a rock against the rock's own pig-headed stubbornness and neither had the upper hand. Neither was willing to bow.

So neither did. Their spiral crested before their wills gave in. Heero cried out, hoarse and short. He shot against the carpet and tried his best to crush the couch arm under his hand. Trowa jerked upward and spilled over Heero's back. They were reluctant to move much more than that, however.

Wufei let himself flop to the carpet.

Duo shifted next to him, a warm shape to the right. "Hmmm, Hey Q?"

"Yes Duo?"

"I like your rules."


End file.
